A Convenient Bridegroom

A Convenient Bridegroom
HELEN BIANCHIN

The wedding deal! With just two weeks until the wedding, it was too late for Aysha to back out of marrying Carlo Santangelo. Everyone expected her to be a radiant bride, blissfully entering a marriage of convenience that would unite two powerful families… . Aysha would gain wealth, status - and a fabulously good-looking husband!Only, she couldn't ignore two painful facts: one, she desperately loved Carlo; two, he clearly had no intention of giving up his glamorous mistress. Could she convince Carlo to be more than a convenient bridegroom?They're gorgeous, they're glamorous… and they're getting married!

“I’m fully aware our impending marriage has its base in mutual convenience,” Aysha stated. (#u7734b6cf-b15b-5ec3-99b0-666718e52f9a)Title Page (#uff7c9b43-debd-5ce4-845e-573e7ad82982)CHAPTER ONE (#u44bdfae8-7f36-5583-814c-b8d54bd827bc)CHAPTER TWO (#u6706e68b-74e2-5109-a9f5-8eb5142e8b0b)CHAPTER THREE (#ua1947581-5b5a-5b26-9215-7c4ee48575e5)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“I’m fully aware our impending marriage has its base in mutual convenience,” Aysha stated.

“But,” she continued, “I insist on your fidelity.”

Carlo’s eyes narrowed and became chillingly calm. “My fidelity isn’t in question.”

“Isn’t it? In this marriage, there’s room for two of us. There’s no way I’ll turn a blind eye to you having a mistress on the side!”

Harlequin Presents

invites you to see how the other half marries in:

They’re gorgeous, they’re glamorous...

and they’re getting married!

Throughout this sensational miniseries

you’ve been our VIP guest at some of the

most talked-about weddings of the decade—

spectacular events where the cream of society

gather to celebrate the marriages of dazzling

brides and grooms in equally breathtaking,

international locations.

At each lavish ceremony we’ve met some

extraspecial men and women—all rich, royal

or just renowned! We now reach the

climax of this series with Helen Bianchin’s

A Convenient Bridegroom. So turn the pages

and enter a sophisticated world of wealth and

glamor—where there’s no end of scandal,

surprises... and passion!

A Convenient Bridegroom

Helen Bianchin

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHAPTER ONE

‘NIGHT, cara. You will be staying over, won’t you?’

Subtle, very subtle, Aysha conceded. It never ceased to amaze that her mother could state a command in the form of a suggestion, and phrase it as a question. As if Aysha had a choice.

For as long as she could remember, her life had been stage-managed. The most exclusive of private schools, extra-curricular private tuition. Holidays abroad, winter resorts. Ballet, riding school, languages ... she spoke fluent Italian and French.

Aysha Benini was a product of her parents’ upbringing. Fashioned, styled and presented as a visual attestation to family wealth and status.

Something which must be upheld at any cost.

Even her chosen career as an interior decorator added to the overall image.

‘Darling?’

Aysha crossed the room and brushed her lips to her mother’s cheek. ‘Probably.’

Teresa Benini allowed one eyebrow to form an elegant arch. ‘Your father and I won’t expect you home.’

Case closed. Aysha checked her evening purse, selected her car key, and turned towards the door. ‘See you later.’

‘Have a good time.’

What did Teresa Benini consider a good time? An exquisitely served meal eaten in a trendy restaurant with Carlo Santangelo, followed by a long night of loving in Carlo’s bed?

Aysha slid in behind the wheel of her black Porsche Carrera, fired the engine, then eased the car down the driveway, cleared the electronic gates, and traversed the quiet tree-lined street towards the main arterial road leading from suburban Vaucluse into the city.

A shaft of sunlight caught the diamond-studded gold band with its magnificent solitaire on the third finger of her left hand. Brilliantly designed, horrendously expensive, it was a befitting symbol representing the intended union of Giuseppe Benini’s daughter to Luigi Santangelo’s son.

Benini-Santangelo, Aysha mused as she joined the flow of city-bound traffic.

Two immigrants from two neighbouring properties in a northern Italian town had travelled in their late teens to Sydney, where they’d worked two jobs every day of the week, saved every cent, and set up a cement business in their mid-twenties.

Forty years on, Benini-Santangelo was a major name in Sydney’s building industry, with a huge plant and a fleet of concrete tankers.

Each man had married a suitable wife, sadly produced only one child apiece; they lived in fine homes, drove expensive cars, and had given their children the best education that money could buy.

Both families had interacted closely on a social and personal level for as long as Aysha could remember. The bond between them was strong, more than friends. Almost family.

The New South Head Road wound down towards Rose Bay, and Aysha took a moment to admire the view.